Guts and Glory
by cookiejunkie
Summary: They were both contenders, fighting to win. Trained and prepared to kill their way out of the Arena. But what they didn't expect was to meet the other, and how it would change everything.


**TITLE: Guts and Glory  
****PAIRING/S: Cato/Katniss  
****RATING: T**

**ADDITIONAL NOTES: This is going to be a bunch of one-shots spanning all three books (hopefully)! There will be more comments at the bottom. Oh and enjoy! :D**

**SUMMARY: They were both contenders, fighting to win. Trained and prepared to kill their way out of the Arena. But what they didn't expect was to meet the other, and how it would change everything. AU**

**DISCLAIMER: The Hunger Games series and all of its characters and themes belong to Suzanne Collins.**

* * *

OPENING CEREMONY

* * *

As soon as he had stepped off the train platform, Cato was overwhelmed by the flashes of cameras and whooping of the colourful Capitol citizens. They were painted in all colours of the rainbow and were outfitted in garish costumes and twinkling jewels.

And they were all flocking to him.

Everywhere he looked there was someone screaming and cheering and trying to touch him. He growled at one of the men who tugged on his sleeve and batted away the hand of another vapid woman. It was only the clearing of Effie's throat that forced a smile onto his face, though it was more of a grimace. Looking to his right, he saw Maya, his fellow tribute cowering behind Haymitch.

His mentor pushed through the crowds as peacekeepers tried to forge a path into the Training Centre, where the tributes would remain for the duration of their short stay in the Capitol before they were sent to the Arena. Cato followed him into the building and down to Beauty Base Zero, where the tributes would be prepared for the Opening Ceremony.

He found himself standing in a room full of an assortment of beauty products and his strange prep team stripping him and fretting over him- and his body.

"Oh my, look at his skin! It's so dirty."

"His hair is a travesty, all tangled and knotted!"

"His nails are caked with coal dust, how filthy!"

They all chirped in their Capitol accents, gasping in horror. In the prep team there was Venia, with her aqua hair and tattoos; Flavius with his orange corkscrew curls and bold purple lipstick; and Octavia, her skin died a pale shade of pea green that was very unflattering.

"Oh don't you worry dear," Octavia cooed, "we'll get rid of this body hair in no time."

And that was how Cato spent the next three hours. He had to clench his fists and bite his cheek to keep from cursing at the lot of them, as they ripped off his body hair with painful jerks. He wanted to shout and bellow and protest at their ignorance as they chattered on about the Games and festivities, but stayed silent as per Haymitch's instruction. Though, he did internally curse his mentor.

When they were finally done they scrubbed his body and applied various frothy creams and lotions, leaving his skin pink and still stinging, as they cooed over his physique.

After another half an hour, his hair was washed clean and detangled and his nails were shaped and buffed, the coal dust having been scraped off.

He thanked them through gritted teeth, annoyed at their presence but still aware that they were helping him.

"You're very welcome," Venia trilled. "You look divine."

"It's true," Flavius cut in. "You look almost human now."

Absentmindedly, Cato wondered what did look completely human to Flavius. Whatever it was, he was glad he wasn't it, judging by the Capitol's fashions.

"You're ready for Cinna now; he'll make you look much more handsome." Venia smiled at him as the three of them shuffled out the door.

He stood there bare, resisting the urge to wrap himself in a nearby robe.

A man walked into the room, and he looked strangely normal for a Capitolite, with plain black clothes, tan skin, and brown hair. He had no tattoos or piercings or alterations, only some gold eyeliner to highlight the golden flecks in his green eyes.

"Hello Cato," he greeted, "I'm Cinna your stylist, and I'll be just a second, okay?"

Cato nodded, and Cinna walked around him, his eyes studying his body and writing down his measurements on the chart in his hand.

"Okay, you can put on a robe and we'll talk." Cinna said.

Cato complied, shrugging on a crimson robe and following the older man into another room, filled with plush sofas and a large window overlooking the bustling streets of the Capitol.

Cinna pressed a button on the table in front of him and two steaming bowls were opened up in front of them. They were filled with a thick creamy soup that was dotted with baby mushrooms. Cato took a sip and found it was delicious, much like the food on the train.

"How despicable we must seem to you." Cinna said, staring intently at Cato. Puzzled, Cato frowned at him. "Never mind." The green eyed man waved away his words.

There was a small pause until Cato asked, "are you new? I haven't seen you before."

"Indeed I am," Cinna replied.

"So they gave you District 12," the blond deadpanned. Of course a new stylist would be chosen to represent the coal mining district. It was the poorest of the poor and nobody else would want the job.

"I asked for District 12," Cinna smirked.

Cato wondered why anyone would want his district. They hardly ever produced Victors and of the two they had, one was dead while the other was a recluse and perpetual drunk. He could see a myriad of sad emotions in the other man's expression and decided he didn't want to know the answer.

"So, for the Ceremony, I am going to help you make a lasting impression for the sponsors." Cinna said.

"And how are you going to manage that?" Cato asked sarcastically.

For the Opening Ceremony, the tributes are clothed in an outfit representing their District's contribution to the Capitol. It was a great way to catch the eye of the sponsors and become a serious contender for the Games. However, being a district specialising in coal mining, District 12 tributes were lucky if they were fully covered. They never had good costumes and so, never won many, if any, sponsors.

Cinna's eyes shone in anticipation. "Well, what do you do with coal?" His voice was hushed, as though he were letting Cato in on some big secret. "You burn it."

Cato had the fleeting thought that Cinna's calm demeanour masked a complete mad man before he was whisked away.

:::

The next thing he knew, Cato found himself standing in the atrium filled with the horses that would cart the tributes around the Capitol streets and then finally to President Snow's mansion.

He wondered whether he would actually make it to the Arena, or be roasted by the time he made it to Snow's mansion. He amused himself with the screams his burning alive would induce from the crowds; he'd bet that most of them had never seen someone dies so gruesomely live, while they still had the audacity to cheer children on to tear other to pieces on screens.

Cinna had said he was to be 'Cato Hadley, the boy on fire.'

Cato was covered head to toe in a black suit that showed off his defined muscles. He wore a cape and matching headdress in ribbons of red, orange and yellow, with sparkling silver accents. Despite Cinna's reassurances, Cato would have rather gone with the coal dust.

He was no fool though; he knew he was handsome, and the costume and subtle makeup that highlighted the contours of his face (no matter how much he had protested against its use) served to make him even more attractive. He had caught the eye of many of the women bustling about in the atrium and if he weren't in a foul mood he might've winked or smirked at a few of them.

This proved how uneasy he was. No matter how bad his mood was, Cato would _always_ have the energy to smirk. Well, mostly.

Regardless, he stood next to a sleek pair of black horses attached, via a fancy rope, to a carriage of the same colour, bearing the number 12 in an array of golden swirls and curves.

The girl tribute, Maya, arrived, trailing in behind her stylist. She was dressed in the same garb as him.

He looked around, seeing the other tributes standing with their mentors. Cinna was off to the side, now talking to Maya's stylist. Cato wondered where Haymitch was and felt a flash of anger at the man. He was probably unconscious, lying in his own drunken vomit.

Cato caught the eye of a girl tribute standing next to a hulking man. She was beautiful, with her chocolate tresses and silver eyes. She wore golden armour, with plating hugging her chest, waist and hips, a short skirt showcasing her long legs and strands of sparkling gold chains woven into her hair. She would certainly be as popular as Finnick Odair.

She watched him watch her, her searching eyes making him uncomfortable. There was nothing suggestive in her gaze; she was merely taking him in, his movements, his expressions, reading him like an open book. He scowled at her but she merely flashed him a predatory grin, bearing wicked sharp teeth and turned back to her mentor. It was then that he recognised her as the eager District 2 girl from the reaping.

He shook his head to clear his mind. She was a Career, and she wouldn't hesitate to slice him to pieces. Careers were, after all, the Capitol's lap dogs.

He heard shuffling behind and spun around to see Maya fiddling with her hands nervously.

"What do you think," her voice wavered, "about the fire?"

Cato shrugged. "It's crazy. But there's nothing we can do about it."

He face flushed red. "Where's Haymitch? Shouldn't he be trying to keep us alive?"

"Probably stumbling around drunk, or lying in his own vomit." He scowled. He never should have counted on the old drunk to actually mentor them.

If anything, Maya became more panicked. "But," she squeaked. "He-he promised, he said he would stay sober. He has to help us!"

Cato bitterly chuckled, "he's an old drunk, _Sweetheart. _You shouldn't trust everything he says." His voice held a touch of malice, which had the girl taking a step back.

Her face was red and her lips trembled. She was manic and she was afraid. And Cato could only find himself disgusted by her, as he saw some tributes glance at them. She was in the Hunger Games; she couldn't start bawling because her lazy excuse of a mentor wasn't around.

He saw Maya look up and spot the District 1 tributes watching them amusedly. The blonde girl was giggling, murmuring something that sent the boy throwing his head back in arrogant laughter. She shot Maya a faux pout and pretended to wipe away tears mockingly, ending her performance with a bitchy smile.

Maya's face turned white as a sheet and she quickly ducked down, sniffling, with tears falling. Cato sighed, frustrated.

The girl was already making them a target to the Careers. They would feed off of her weakness, smell it and use it to hunt her down. Then they would revel in it as they killed her slowly. And they would do the same to him.

Unbidden, his eyes wandered to the District 2 girl, who was standing next to the boy tribute. The brunette was watching them again, but rather than laughing like her counterpart, she had an unreadable look on her face, she almost looked bored. She raised her eyebrow in slight amusement, as her mentor said something.

Cato stepped close to Maya, hovering over her intimidatingly and hearing her breath hitch. She was another of the many girls who thought he was incredibly attractive. But he didn't care, he was annoyed and he could tell as she flinched away that she knew it.

"Look," he hissed. "You may not care about trying not to die but I do." She whimpered. "Your little _show _is painting a target on our backs, so I suggest you get a hold of yourself. Crying and sniffling isn't going to do anything but show that you are weak," he spat in disgust. The other tributes couldn't hear him but she did, nodding meekly.

Cato Hadley was not, evidently, someone who tolerated weakness. And anyone who knew him knew as much. He hated it, couldn't stand it, especially after seeing what it did to his own mother, after it had almost led his family to starve to death.

Maya soon stopped trembling and remained silent, just as a woman's voice reverberated through the atrium via the speakers, telling the tributes to take their places in the carriages.

The District 1 carriage rolled out from behind the curtains and Cato could hear a loud roar of applause from the crowd. They clapped and whooped and cheered.

He climbed onto the platform of the District 12 carriage with Maya following him.

Cinna and the other stylist approached them, Cinna holding a torch in his hand.

He was startled by the deafening noise erupting from the crowd. Their volume was impossibly louder than before. Cato realised the District 2 carriage had just rolled out.

"Remember," Cinna instructed. "Chins up, heads held high. Smile and wave. They are going to love you."

He moved the torch to Cato's headdress and Cato closed his eyes, bracing himself for the heat. Instead, he was pleasantly surprised to feel only a slight tickling sensation.

Cinna sighed in relief, "it works," he smiled. Cato eyed him warily. He shouldn't have been surprised unless he truly hadn't known whether it would work.

He heard Maya gasp, and turned to see her looking at him with dreamy eyes. Uncomfortable, he turned back to a smirking Cinna who proceeded to light his cape and then do the same to his fellow tribute's headdress and cape.

By then, the District 11 carriage, which carried the hauntingly young girl tribute and formidable boy tribute, started to roll out, to some applause and cheering. Some tributes were better received than others, but none were rewarded with quite as much cheering than Districts 1, 2 and 4, being Career districts.

The crowd already had their favourites.

As their carriage approached the curtains, Cato looked back at Cinna who was mouthing something and making hand gestures. Confused, Cato looked towards Maya, whose eyes shone with realisation, but she quickly averted them, muttering, "it's nothing."

Before he had a chance to question her, they were pulled through the curtains.

There was a beat of silence.

There were terrified screams from a few people in the crowded streets (not unlike the ones Cato had imagined earlier) until their cheers grew louder and people understood they weren't being roasted. They saw that the tributes were on _fire _and their enthusiasm grew ten-fold. The sound was ear shattering Cato was sure they were stealing away attention from other tributes.

Remembering Cinna's words he smiled to the crowds, bestowing them with kisses and winks as women and men alike swooned. Beside him he could see Maya beaming and waving.

His attention was caught by the huge screens, where he could see himself and his district partner leaving trails of fire in their wake. The fire curled and licked at the contours of his face and made him look otherworldly.

Spurred on, he caught a few roses, and tossed them to the people in the crowd and his smile grew genuine.

_District Twelve_

_Cato_

_Maya_

He couldn't believe that people had actually bothered to find out their names. Maybe they actually stood a chance. Or, he did, at least.

The carriages approached President Snow's mansion, and lined up in an arc. The cameras were on the tributes as the President made a speech welcoming them and spoke about the upcoming Games

Cato couldn't help but notice that the cameras were on him and Maya for longer than the other tributes. It seemed they noticed too, as they shot the District 12 pair cutting glares.

The anthem rang and the tributes were carted off back to the Training Centre with the crowd cheering after them.

When they'd gotten into the atrium, Cato and Maya stepped down from the carriage and saw Cinna, Portia, Effie and their prep teams approach them, Haymitch staggering behind.

Cinna sprayed their headdresses with the aqua bottle he held, extinguishing the fire.

Their prep teams launched at them, babbling their praises and how "Rubidia's tributes didn't do _nearly_ as well!"

"You did a good job," Haymitch slurred. "There may be hope for you yet."

Effie clapped her hands excitedly. "The whole of Panem will watch out for you now. And I'll have to fend off the sponsors with a stick."

Cato snorted. He hoped that wasn't literal; Effie couldn't handle so much as a chipped fingernail.

She ignored him and turned to Cinna. "Oh, that fire was terrific! So spectacular! You did such a great job!" Cinna smiled and said his thanks.

"Simply marvellous," Octavia chirped. Venia agreed, nodding her head vigorously, as did Flavius.

"We should talk more inside," Haymitch said gruffly. Cato looked up to find him looking wearily at the Careers. Many tributes were shooting them dirty looks, some with envy, others with anger and hatred.

The District 1 girl particularly looked as if she were about to lunge at them and rake her sharp claws across their throats. Beside her, the girl from Two stood, arms crossed, smirking at his mentor's unease. There was a quiet air of confidence that, too, set him on edge. He realised she had also been a favourite, but it didn't exactly reassure him. Her eyes were aflame with something unreadable, something terrifying, and it unnerved him.

Cato turned and followed his mentor and the rest of the District 12 team, feeling her silver gaze watch him go.

:::

He wasn't sure what it was that made him go back to thinking about her. He was unsettled because she was a Career, one that didn't seem threatened by him. The others didn't exactly, either. But they were certainly more noticeably furious at how he'd upstaged them. There was danger in her stance, a sharp lethality in her presence.

He wondered how he would kill her, when it came down it. If he would slice her with his sword, snap her neck with his bare hands, shoot an arrow through her heart, or if she'd be the one to kill him, which admittedly, was more likely.

He thought about the rest of the tributes. He remembered the sneering fury of the District 1 boy. The haughty smiles of his counterpart, the way her eyes settled on Maya like a predator its prey. He could almost feel the cold rage from the boy from two. The sly-looking girl from Five. And the pair from Eleven, the hulking mass of the boy and the contrasting tiny frame of the girl, the small, bird-like girl who reminded him too much of a young blonde back home.

He is startled by a rapping on the door "Cato, up, up, up, it's time for the replay of the Opening Ceremony."

He slowly sat up on his bed and slid off. With a last glance at the display on his window, the one showing his forest back home, he opened the door and strode past Effie and into the sitting room.

Haymitch, Maya, the two stylists and their prep teams were already seated around a large, flat screen TV. Caesar Flickerman was sat at a desk, with the back drop of the Capitol streets behind him, buoyantly teasing and cracking a few jokes about the Games and this year's tributes.

The show carried on to play footage of the ceremony and of the carriages rolling out. Cato watched as the different tributes rode out, outfitted in the various costumes representing their District.

District 1 wore sparkling silver and gold colours, dripping with jewels and embellishments, provoking _oohs_ and _ahhs_. Even their razor-sharp teeth glittered like a new set of knives.

District 2 wore their solid golden armour, winning the hearts and fear of the Capitolites with their charming smiles and formidable appearance. Cato knew they would be trouble- normally District 2 reeked of brutality, but this pair hid their bloodlust beneath a perfectly composed veneer of charm and allure.

District 3 brought skinny tributes outfitted in costumes wrapped with wire and dotted with flashbulbs- Cato couldn't help but think how pathetic they looked compared to the first two pairs of tributes and to what had surely been his own stellar appearance.

The next eight districts wore scales and glitter and lather and animal hide and a whole lot of other things. (Cato ignored how the girl from 11 looked so breakable standing next to her towering partner)

Finally he saw his own appearance -and Maya's- and smirked. The room erupted in gasps, despite already having seen this whole thing live. Cato could hear the screaming of many women on the screen and couldn't help the swell of pride he felt. He looked outstandingly handsome lit by firelight, and the population knew it. There was no way the women were able to resist him.

"That'll bring some sponsors," Haymitch mumbled, pleased. "Don't get too cocky though, Pretty Boy, this is just the start. I'm sure you'll find some way to screw it up.

Cato scowled. Though inwardly, he thought about what this all meant. He was surely winning over some sponsors with his fiery debut. Now he would just have to keep hem hooked.

He could feel the hope blossoming in his chest as his chances of getting home were improving.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Okay, so the reason I decided to write one-shots instead a full blown story is because I terrible at writing quickly and I would probably get bored writing some parts, so this way, I don't really have a time constraint and I get to write all the fun parts!**

**My sister lost our copy to the first book so this was all pulled out of my head, and of course, the parts that are similar to Canon are what I remember from it, so there will be some details that may be wrong (sorry!) and some that I don't own.**

**I have worked really hard on this one and I love the idea of Katniss being a Career. I'm going to give her a whole back story, and considering this is an AU, their personalities are going to be different. So Cato is going to be all scowly and not psychotic like he was in the books (is it just me or does the part in the first book where Katniss blew up the supplies and Cato beat his fists on the ground remind you of Donkey Kong, that was literally all I was thinking of in that scene). I hope you like his character so far, I made him a little arrogant and a bit of an asshole (okay, a lot), but ah well, I was trying to make this more original!**

**By the way, this story is not going to be in chronological order, so yeah. I know what I want to write about in the next chapter (enter Clove and Gale!) and their will be a lot more Katniss, but still no interaction between them. This is going to be a pre-Games scene. So you can look forward to that... when I actually get around to writing it. As I've mentioned, I suck at deadlines, and I'll probably write a one-shot for some other Fandom. **

**Anyway, considering this is my first published FanFiction, I would appreciate it if you could leave a comment to tell me how I did, and how I could improve. I hope you liked it! :D**

**x cookiejunkie**


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